Spain Day 6

Well, that was nice while it lasted.

I awake to our living situation apparently having sparked a mental breakdown. There are tears, curses, whining, so I do the gentlemanly thing - I roll over and go back to sleep. Yes, I know, it's amazing I'm still single.

A while later I get up and talk to the guy that was in charge. He claims they have a place for us to move to that was what we were expecting, but people are skeptical and on-edge. I find out we can get out of our reservation free because of the screwup. Fair enough. I tell Anisha to pick two places to investigate and tell the others to go grab breakfast. We'll check it out and be back shortly.

We arrived at the first spot - an Ayre hotel - and everything looks pretty nice. The rates aren't too high and the only catch is we won't have a room Saturday night. Our flight Sunday is actually out of another city to the North anyway, so we figure it'll be fine to leave Barcelona a day earlier than planned. Crisis over. Drinks for everyone!

We collect the rest of the group and get moved into the new place. Another big benefit - Eric and I get the bachelor room. Booyah! We grabbed lunch and Joel was obviously still feeling pretty crappy. We dropped him back at the hotel to rest and the 4 of us cruised to the beach. the beach in Barcelona was nice, but not quite as good as San Sebastian. Since it's on the Med, the water is much saltier and doesn't have any surf. It still beat the hell out of anything in SoCal though (OK, I'm done bashing the shitty SoCal Summer. I mean it. Maybe...)

We did crack up at some of people that were hawking promotions on the beach. Two different people came up to Mindy and Anisha trying to promote some new sushi joint/club with some crazy offers (free cover, 15Euro all you-can-eat). We're from California, possibly the 2nd best place for sushi other than Japan. There's no way we're going to trust sushi out here, especially not at crazy discounts. The other entertaining moment was a lady walking around offering Asian massages. We could tell she wasn't supposed to be doing it because we saw her do it for someone and she spent the whole time looking like she was trying to hide something (which only made her more obvious). A few minutes after she left our area we saw her being escorted off the beach by the cops. Next time just pass out fliers and promise a happy ending like the other "massage" parlors.

Anisha peaced out early because...actually, I have no idea why. I guess we're too much fun. Eric, Mindy and I hung out at the beach a while longer and then walked up the strip to check the area out. For those who remember the Barcelona Olympics, the former Olympic Village is right long the beach and still has many of the buildings in tact. We rounded the corner and returned to the main row of restaurants/cafes, eventually landing at an Irish Pub. A round of drinks to Barcelona! Mindy also realized she had cards with her, so we ended up killing a few hours (and many beers) playing rounds of Asshole. Significantly buzzed, we decided it was time to head back to the hotel and clean up.

We got back to our area and found out that Joel and Anisha had gone off to dinner at some place we had no idea how to get to. Rather than track them down, we just decided to find a cafe nearby to hit. We ended up at a little Italian place that had awesome pizza and calzones. A few more drinks and good food got us setup for the night.

Mindy had been talking up a place in the northern part of the city called Elephant that she had read about in her travel book. Always down to check out something new, the three us of - now pimped out for the evening - headed that direction. The part of town Elephant is in was pretty quiet which was a bit discouraging, but I figured we'd gone this far, may as well see it to the end. Upon finding the place, we were glad we'd stuck it out. The name Elephant comes because there are - duh - a bunch of elephant sculptures littered throughout the place. The bar had a pretty sweet setup. There was a main room, decorated to look like a large tent, that housed some couches, open dance floor, and VIP section. Outside were a bunch of lounges and coaches tucked under pretty ornate drapes. The feel and flow to the place was pretty sweet. Only problem: not many people were out. I'm not sure if it was a time issue (it was about 11pm, which is early by Barcelona standards) or it just wasn't a good night (Thursday), but for whatever reason the place just was not very lively.

Mindy was hitting the wall, and once she taps out, she's done. Eric and I were kind of bummed that Elephant was dead, so we decided it'd be best to go find a better spot that night and try to make it back the next night. I asked the bouncer on leaving if Fridays were better and he gave me a pretty confident nod "Yes," so we said we'd try to be back [note: glad I took pics b/c we didn't make it back. Too bad. That place is probably a lot of fun when it gets going].

The metro had closed so we flagged down a cab and took Mindy back to the hotel. Eric and I had planned to just continue onto La Rambla, but I couldn't help asking the cabbie where he recommended. Cabbies always know the best places to go. Once he figured out my broken Spanish, he said we should head to Port Olympic. Works for me, let's do it!

Upon arrival I knew we'd made the right decision. Apparently part of the Olympic Village conversion from '92 included making a bunch of night clubs through part of the area. The hitch that the cabbie dropped us off on had 5 big clubs all just winding up for the night. Perfect timing.

Eric and I decided to try to get into the best club first - Opium Bar. What have we got to lose? The entrance is actually on a elevated street, with the main club pouring out onto the beach below. Eric jumps in line and I cruise over to the edge to glance down and see how it looks. There's lots of girls and good music. We've made a good call. Getting back in line, I take a look at our chances of getting in. We're in the only line to the place, but it ends at a group of bouncers who have a list. Most people are getting in, but those who aren't are being told to stand outside the rope area. Alone. with no defined line. In fact, after about a minute these people seem to realize they're not getting in and leave to try someplace else. Eric and I are not feeling great about our chances. Fortune had other ideas.

Eric had turned to the guy behind us to ask if he was OK to get into the clubs. Though his shoes were white, they were still closed-toed and fairly nice. The guy behind us was wearing one of the current hippie-trendy t-shirts and worse shoes than Eric's, so we figured if he was getting in then we'd have no problem. The guy also gave us a critical tip. "They've got a code up at the front. All you need to say is 'kikae' [pronounced key-kay] to get in tonight." Eric and I aren't sure what to make of it, but EFF it, it's worth a shot.

As we inch closer to the front, one of the bouncers starts making his way along the line. Apparently they'd run into a bunch of people they weren't going to be letting in and decided to thin the herd. The guy reached Eric and me and asked - I think - if we were in the right place. I glanced at Eric who gave me a shrug and then back to the guy. I just kind of look at him and say "Kikae?" The bouncer gave us an up-and-down to our look nodded his head and moved on. Holy shit! This might actually work. We're still were not in though.

Finally we reached the front. Moment of truth. The bouncer rolls a couple pages back from his clipboard and looks at us. I look look back and once again blurt out, "Kikae." The guy looks at us, looks at his sheet, back at us, and with just a slight motion with his hand waves us in. Booyahkashaw!!! On the way down to the club Eric and I are yucking it up. No way that should have worked, but fuck it, we're in! We belly up to the bar, order a round of cocktails, and scope the scene.

The club was pretty sick. Six or seven bars, outdoor lounges by the beach, indoor lounges with bottle service and a huge dance floor. I turned my back for a moment and when I looked back Eric was dancing with some chick. Against a wall. Haha, right on. I headed down to the dance floor and within minutes was getting into it with some girl. After bouncing around for a while, I ran back into Eric who'd lost the chick (for the time being). Suddenly the place start pointing towards the stage at the end of the dance floor and we looked up to see one of the craziest things I've seen at a club - a guy playing a Spanish violin (or possibly fiddle) perfectly synced to the Jay-Z song the club as blasting. The bridge of the violin even had a set of glowing LEDs. The dude was shredding it to gangster and everyone was cheering him on. Crazy.

The rest of the night is pretty fuzzy. I remember dancing with a lot of different chicks but never actually got into a conversation (I had been drinking since the early afternoon, effective personal skills went out the window long ago). Eric found his girl again and ended up getting her number. I realized she'd left and wondered why. Then I realized it was 5:00am. Oh. that explains why I'm running on fumes. Eric was tapped as well so we headed out.

The cabbie on the ride home must have thought we were idiots. Every few mins one of us would say "Kikae" and we'd both bust up laughing. that kind of shit doesn't happen in real life. Hilarious. Eric did make a critical mistake - he drunk dialed the chick on the way home. Had I been sober, I would have been a good bud and saved him from himself. Instead, I was drunk and could only laugh at him. Oh well. I'll have more on this story tomorrow.

We came, we saw, we partied. THAT was an awesome day.